


Somedays I'm Built Of Metal

by TRASHCAKE



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Multiple Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRASHCAKE/pseuds/TRASHCAKE
Summary: Kyungsoo builds walls. Jongin is the wallflower that blooms--- roots and vines twisting into cracks, tearing down foundations with smiles and constant company.





	

**Author's Note:**

> To say I'm happy with this is a lie, but to quote the wonderful Indigogo, "We re-write when we're dead." 
> 
> Written for Kaisoobiography, the title is different from the original posting bc I fucked up. Title and inspiration from [This song that Rick and Morty Fans may recognise.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTA0DSfrGZ0)

There’s a certain kind of satisfaction that comes with a successful conquest. It’s a thrill like no other, addicting and impulsive. Kyungsoo is a collector of sorts; his prizes and trophies comprise of hearts and virginities, the notches in his proverbial bedpost whittle wood into sawdust. 

He’s not driven by narcissism, just pride. Kyungsoo has a reputation and it excites him. He loves the way people regard him with fear and curiosity, finds the thrill of the chase to be exhilarating. People know who he is, what he does. They know he’ll take them, use them, break their hearts. But people fall to their knees and fall for him anyway. Kyungsoo is a powerful force, leaving damaged souls lying in wake. 

Friends, to Kyungsoo, are just those who keep up with him as he tries to leave. He surrounds himself with people whose hearts are too strong to shatter, like-minded companions who understand the meaning of a fling. 

Kyungsoo is not a good person, but he’s trying. He sticks to his reputation while changing the details--- sometimes he stays overnight before leaving amicably in the morning. Sometimes he rejects a willing partner in order to save their heart. But sometimes it’s too much, being a good person, so he falls back into old habits; causing sorrow and pain as he sneaks off into the the night.

Those he’s scorned fight back with harsh words, insults. They call him cruel, heartless, tell him he’s going to die alone. Kyungsoo crafts his persona around the slander of others. It’s not hurtful if it’s the truth, they’re not insults if they’re the bricks and mortar of Kyungsoo’s carefully constructed walls. 

Inside his stronghold, his self-hatred festers. 

Kyungsoo is alone, and so very, _very_ lonely.

\------

Jongin. Quiet, beautiful Jongin. A friend of a friend, the roommate of someone Kyungsoo tried to run away from yet couldn’t. 

“Are you going to that thing tonight?” Jongin breaks the silence. It’s a Friday, they share a table in the library. Shy Jongin sits at the only occupied table with a comforting presence. They’re not friends, but there’s enough familiarity for Jongin to be comfortable. 

“Of course,” Kyungsoo replies. He keeps his tone soft, not to follow library rules but to keep Jongin comfortable. He’s flighty, and Kyungsoo doesn’t want to scare him off. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

There were plans for a small get together, plans that morphed into more invites than a tiny apartment has the space for. Kyungsoo’s invite comes from the host himself, so when the crowd swells and it’s time to kick people out, Kyungsoo won’t be the one to leave.

He hunts in crowds, seduces people away from their friends. Clubs, parties, classrooms, he doesn’t have a preferred space. Though it’s far easier to divide and conquer when his target leaves the house with the idea of hooking up lying somewhere within their heads. 

“I shouldn’t have asked,” Jongin shakes his head, laughing softly to himself. He has a nice laugh, Kyungsoo notes. He’s never noticed Jongin’s titling giggles before, purely because laughter is not the kind of sound he usually pulls from people’s lips. “You know Chanyeol, of course you’re going.” 

“Everyone knows Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo reminds him. Chanyeol is similar to Kyungsoo in a lot of ways. He, too, has his conquests, though Chanyeol draws people in for friendship and beds those few who want to take it further. So similar, yet they operate with different motives. 

“You know him a little better than others,” Jongin’s eyes never leave his textbook, something bulky and scientific. He smiles to himself, softly. It’s as if he’s made a joke at Kyungsoo’s expense. “Or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.” 

 

“I didn’t take you for a gossip,” Kyungsoo replies. He’s aware of his reputation, though he never really expected it to reach Jongin. 

“Sehun told me.” 

The roommate, the friend of a friend. Sehun’s a one night stand that Kyungsoo’s never been able to get rid of. 

“Sounds about right,” Kyungsoo mutters. Sehun lives on a diet of Red Bull and drama; some he causes, some he witnesses. It’s not out of character for Sehun to discuss Kyungsoo’s modus operandi, even with those unwilling to listen. 

“He tells me everything,” Jongin’s nose scrunches in mild disgust. “I think I know you as well as he does.” 

“Is that so?” Kyungsoo hums. He doesn’t correct Jongin. It’s too much of a bother to explain that Sehun doesn’t know him as well as he thinks, that no one knows Kyungsoo at all. It’s too much to admit to anyone, most of all quiet, prudish Jongin who disapproves of sex without feelings. 

“Are we friends?” Jongin asks quietly. 

“I don’t really have friends,” Kyungsoo mutters, “but if that’s what you think, then, sure.” 

“But what do _you_ think?” 

It’s a question he’s never been asked before. 

“I sleep with my friends,” Kyungsoo replies, “you don’t quite meet the criteria.” 

Jongin laughs outright. “And I never will,” he replies. 

“You hurt me,” Kyungsoo can tell that Jongin is joking around, tone devoid of anything serious. He places a hand over his heart as if wounded. 

No one denies Kyungsoo, no one hurts Kyungsoo. It’s all a big joke, friendly banter. Kyungsoo could have Jongin, too, if he wanted him. 

“I think we’re friends,” Jongin says, “or as close to friendship as you’re capable of.” 

“You spend too much time with Sehun,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. He’s sure that Sehun’s used the same line on him a few times before. 

“You spend too much time alone,” Jongin retorts. That’s a new one, not some regurgitated line from a conversation with Sehun. “You must be lonely.” 

“I don’t need anyone else,” Kyungsoo replies curtly. 

Their gazes meet, Jongin’s concerned and Kyungsoo’s adamant. Silently, he drops his gaze back to his books. 

The conversation ends.

\------

Body heat mingles, the combined warmth of the crowd heats the air and condensation forms on cups and windows. Crude messages and handprints are smeared onto glass, the messages slowly fogging up and disappearing, becoming a blank canvas once more. 

Kyungsoo hates people yet he thrives amongst them. He weaves amongst the crowd in search of heated gazes and smirks with hidden promise, bitten lips and the potential to add more handprints against the glass. He has an abundance of choice, as he does every night, but he’s off his game; the earlier conversation with Jongin plaguing Kyungsoo more than he’s willing to admit.

Loneliness is difficult to detect in others, most people too obsessed with themselves to look past walls and fronted emotions. Jongin’s seen right through him and it’s terrifying-- someone with such limited social skills shouldn’t be able to notice such visible cracks in Kyungsoo’s facade. 

Surprisingly, Jongin graces Chanyeol’s little get together with his presence. Kyungsoo isn’t the only one to notice; sleepy eyes, soft pout, fluffy hair. Jongin has that kind of boyish charm that turns heads and makes the more predatory of his admirers circle like vultures. He clings to Sehun like a lifeline, switching to Chanyeol as his housemate sneaks off with some pretty little thing. When Chanyeol’s usually contagious extroversion wears him out, Jongin chooses to decorate the paint as a wallflower, people watching and sipping quietly at the drink in his hands. 

Their eyes meet, they fall into cliche and Kyungsoo sees Jongin, truly, for the first time. Confident posture yet his head is bowed, Kyungsoo can see faint acne scarring along his cheeks and jawline. A slight tremor to his hand shows his nerves, though he keeps himself composed. It seems as if Jongin wears a mask just like Kyungsoo’s. The weakness in him is beautiful, and Kyungsoo stares at him a moment too long.

With curled fingers he beckons Kyungsoo, his hands no longer shake at the prospect of company, purely because Kyungsoo’s is so familiar. Talking to Jongin away from the crowd is one way to ensure he doesn’t pick up, but Kyungsoo’s legs move without permission, weaving his way through before he registers the motion. 

“Hey,” Jongin says, louder than his normal tone. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy someone under forty using that line,” Kyungsoo replies. He’s turning on the charm, alcohol loosening his lips and morals. He makes Jongin laugh--- warm, welcoming and enough to break the ice. They don’t talk outside the library. While the company is familiar the setting is not, and Kyungsoo’s never had to converse civilly with a friend-of-a-friend while drunk before. 

“You’re funnier than I thought you’d be,” Jongin smiles and the broken ice melts. 

“I’m drunker than you assume I am,” Kyungsoo retorts. He lifts a heavy arm over Jongin’s shoulder, awkwardly and not without spilling his drink. 

“Is this how the whole conversation is going to go?” He asks, wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist. It could be a measure of support or a friendly greeting. Drunk Kyungsoo registers any touch as an act of flirting, though he’s been known to be wrong in the past. 

“Depends on how good you are with conversation,” Kyungsoo replies. Jongin smells like whisky and Coke, though it’s probably because Kyungsoo’s cup keeps overflowing onto his shirt. If it were anyone else, Kyungsoo would offer to clean the mess with his tongue, seduce him away from the crowd and see if Jongin’s lips taste as good as they look. 

But it’s Jongin. Quiet, beautiful Jongin, and he’s somewhat off limits.

“What brings you here tonight?” Jongin asks him, like the answer isn’t already clear. 

“I’m looking for love,” Kyungsoo laughs at his own joke. Jongin laughs too, or are the jerky movements of his chest just attempts to move away from Kyungsoo’s drink? 

“In a place like this?” Jongin understands his sense of humour, it’s nice to know that Drunk Kyungsoo still has it, so to speak. 

“You know what?” Another look through the crowd, faceless notches on Kyungsoo’s bedpost. “You can’t find love here,” he sighs dramatically, “you can find a good blowjob, though, so I’ll settle for that.” 

“Are you sure?” Jongin unwraps Kyungsoo’s arm from his shoulders. “I’m sure there’s some nice people here.” 

“I don’t care if they’re nice, I care if they can suck a dick.”

“And what if you can’t find your Blowjob Prince for the evening?” Jongin has the audacity to laugh at his own joke. It’s endearing, in a way. 

“Then I’ll find Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo shrugs. His drink spills onto his sleeve. “He’s always up for it.” 

“The way you treat people is disgusting,” Jongin says, stepping out from Kyungsoo’s reach. His brows pull into a frown, lines on his forehead that Kyungsoo wants to smooth away. 

Offering nothing more, he turns on his heel. Kyungsoo loses sight of him in the crowd, slumping back against the wall, defeated. His world spins and lurches, closed eyes adding to vertigo, the burning of the alcohol as it courses through his veins. 

“I hear you’re looking for me,” the voice can only belong to Baekhyun, his tone so teasing and filled with filthy promises. “Jongin tells me you’re in need of my _services_.” 

“They would be greatly appreciated,” Kyungsoo speaks far more eloquently than he feels. A sudden moment of clarity, one where his words don’t slur and his tongue and lips obediently form his chosen sentences. 

A kiss as filthy as Baekhyun’s promises, hands on his waist, already untucking his shirt. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes open, a way to watch as Baekhyun comes undone, a precaution against voyeuristic intruders who’d like nothing more than to watch. 

They’re largely ignored, one or two lingering gazes but nothing else, intrigued passers-by moving along, the alcohol shortening their attention spans. For the second time of the evening, Kyungsoo meets Jongin’s eyes, just briefly. He’s frowning, in consideration rather than in disapproval or disgust. 

Kyungsoo closes his eyes, puts on a show, lets Jongin see just how the master works. 

When he chances a second glance, Jongin is gone.

\------- 

Hungover Kyungsoo is a lazy Kyungsoo. His stomach churns, body resorting to nausea rather than the classic headache. He can’t stomach food all that well, so water becomes his only form of sustenance, such as it is. The small ginger pills he keeps on his bedside table help to take the edge off. Kyungsoo’s no longer throwing up stomach acid and water-- he’s reached the point where the hangover is manageable, and for that he’s thankful. 

The door to Sehun and Jongin’s apartment would mock him if it could speak, stare disapprovingly if it had eyes. It beckons him to knock, dares him to walk away. There is no reason for him to stand in front of it, yet Kyungsoo finds himself staring at the brass numbers, wondering why he’s there. 

“You’ve been outside for a while,” the door swings outwards, not inwards as most doors tend to; it shocks Kyungsoo as he hurriedly steps backwards, tripping over his own feet in the process. 

Jongin appears in the gap between door and frame, hair messy and eyes still swollen from sleep. It’s not early, not by a long shot. The time is somewhere in the early afternoon, not that Kyungsoo’s been bothered to check. He’s a late sleeper, Kyungsoo guesses, and it’s something both endearing and irritating. It’s sweet, almost childish, the way that Jongin wakes for the mid-afternoon, but he wastes the day away in bed, unproductive and useless. 

“Sehun around?” 

“Nah,” Jongin shakes his head, the mess of his hair bouncing with the movement. “He hooked up last night.” 

The pretty little thing he snuck off with. Must have been more than pretty if Sehun’s still at his house the morning after. 

“Oh,” Kyungsoo is at a loss for words. He resists the urge to fiddle with the seams of his clothes, his hair, anything. “I guess I’ll head home, then.”

The atmosphere is thick and awkward, words unsaid hanging in the air between them. He and Jongin parted on such awful terms the night prior, though he _did_ send an eager Baekhyun in Kyungsoo’s direction, and he’s rather thankful for it. Jongin’s stint as a temporary wingman may have been an attempt at an apology, something to soothe the burn left by harsh words. 

“You can stay,” Jongin shrugs, “I don’t think either of us has anything better to do,” he pauses, regarding Kyungsoo curiously. “Unless you’ve still got Baekhyun around?” 

“He’s gone,” Kyungsoo replies. Baekhyun’s warmed his bed on more than one occasion, he knows Kyungsoo’s rules and follows them dutifully. He’s never woken up with another body in his bed, and he doubts that’ll change anytime soon. 

“I’m gonna watch shitty movies and wait out my hangover,” Jongin’s eyes are downcast, doubtful, “you’re more than welcome to join me.” 

Kyungsoo isn’t into the whole Net and Chill thing, at least, not without the promise of sex halfway through the film. He finds himself agreeing, all dressed up and with nowhere to go, he supposes he could use a little company. Originally, his intention was to grill Sehun on his hook up, see if Pretty Little Thing is worth chasing at another party where Sehun hasn’t distracted him. It’ll have to wait.

Stomach churning, Kyungsoo follows Jongin to the couch, settling in against the pillows and the all-purpose throw rug they keep draped across the back of it. A familiar space, his usual spot— though not with his usual company. Jongin isn’t the type of person he does, or should, spend time with. They’re too different, and it’s any wonder how they get along at all. 

Jongin’s film of choice is loud, filled with explosions and superheroes that Kyungsoo can’t name. It’s nice, though he doesn’t dare admit it out loud. 

Nausea still churns in his stomach.

\------

Kyungsoo seeks Jongin out, and more than once; they eat dinner after studying, something fast and greasy, usually deep fried. They walk the calories off, wandering through streets and peering into the still lit windows of long closed stores. Sometimes Kyungsoo follows Jongin back to his apartment, sitting in his usual spot beside Sehun as the three of them talk or watch another bad film or television show of Jongin’s suggestion. 

There’s a simple formula to Kyungsoo’s friends; they sleep together, they stay. It doesn’t happen again. Kyungsoo’s not exactly averse to repeat performances, though he’s aware that sex can lead to feelings and all sorts of things that ruin friendships. Being able to count his friends on one hand, he doesn’t exactly want to lose any of them, so he sleeps with strangers instead. 

“So,” Sehun begins, walking into the lounge armed with snacks. He drops them unceremoniously onto the table, a single bag of chips missing its mark and falling to the floor. No one moves to pick it up. “You never told me about Baekhyun’s little biting kink,” he pulls at the collar of his shirt, revealing a bruised section of skin and an imprint of teeth. “It’s taking forever to heal.” 

“He doesn’t do that to me,” Kyungsoo retorts, “his mouth is usually occupied when I’m with him.” 

“Does Baekhyun know how you talk about him?” Jongin enquires, judgmental although a little curious. “I can’t say I’d be happy if it was me.” 

“He’s as bad as we are,” Sehun replies. 

“Worse,” Kyungsoo adds, “his Snapchat story last weekend was a video of my come dripping from his asshole.” 

Jongin’s nose wrinkles in disgust. 

“I remember that,” Sehun laughs, “ _Kyungsoo made me a creampie, who wants to eat it?_ ” 

Kyungsoo smirks at the memory. He doesn’t have Snapchat, so he wasn’t aware of the caption. But he was definitely there for the filming; in fact, he held the camera, using Baekhyun’s phone to zoom in on the mess he made. 

“Point taken,” Jongin mutters. 

Their conversations usually go like this: Kyungsoo and Sehun talk as they usually do, swapping kiss-and-tell stories and comparing conquests. Jongin asks questions and is uncomfortable with their answers, shying away as the conversations turn graphic. 

It’s a wonder why they’re even friends. Jongin doesn’t fit the criteria; he hasn’t stuck around, he’s always been there, lurking on the fringe and always in Kyungsoo’s peripheral vision. They haven’t fallen into bed and then into friendship, it’s more of a slow descent that Kyungsoo just isn’t used to. Jongin’s presence in his life catches him off guard. 

“Why don’t you hook up?” Sehun asks. It’s a wonder that the topic hasn’t been broached before, what with Sehun’s more promiscuous tendencies and his close friendship with Jongin. 

“I’m more of a sex with feelings kinda guy,” Jongin shrugs, “I like the emotional connection.” 

“So you’re _not_ a virgin?” Kyungsoo’s long had a theory, one which Jongin disproves with an offhanded comment. It’s far more jarring than it should be. 

“Does it matter?” Jongin raises an eyebrow in challenge.

It doesn’t, Kyungsoo supposes. He likes to collect virginities, he holds them close to his heart. Being the first memory of sex, the one who got away, it fills him with the sort of pride that’s hard to replicate. It’s likely that he cares more about it than his partners-- why else would people come to him for their first time, other than for the sake of getting it over with? But it’s something he cherishes, his tally of achievements, the supposedly memorable first times he taints by leaving before the sun rises. 

“We should find you a boyfriend,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin is too uptight, stressed out. Sex is the best cure for everything, and Kyungsoo should know. He’s been using it as a coping mechanism for years. 

“I’m not looking for one,” Jongin’s reply hints at annoyance, “thanks, though.” 

“I could show you around, find you a man,” Kyungsoo pushes, “I know how to make people fall in love with me, and I can teach you the tricks.” 

“You could be Kyungsoo’s disciple,” Sehun adds, snickering, “a Hoe in Training.” 

“I don’t want a boyfriend and I don’t need help,” Jongin grates out, “but if it means we get to hang out more, then sure, why not.” 

“Aww,” Sehun coos, “Jongin’s got a crush,” 

“Jongin needs more friends,” he mutters, “and Kyungsoo’s popular enough that I might find one.” 

“I don’t have friends,” Kyungsoo reminds him, “I have ex-hookups that stick around.” 

“What does that make me?” Jongin asks. He peers over the cushion, using the soft square as a makeshift wall, a shield. Something to protect him from Kyungsoo’s answer. 

Kyungsoo doesn’t know how to respond, so he remains silent. 

Sehun clears his throat, pressing play on the movie and allowing the sounds of the opening titles to drown out the awkwardness.

\------

There’s a little coffee shop that Sehun likes to frequent. Pretty Little Thing is one of their many baristas. He ignores Sehun as they walk through the door, keeping himself preoccupied with his work. Sehun hasn’t said anything to Kyungsoo, but it’s clear that Sehun’s more than a little hung up on the guy. The sex must have been incredible if Sehun’s that desperate for more. 

“You’re adopting Jongin,” Sehun punctuates his sentence with a raised eyebrow and a casual sip from his frappe. His eyes flicker slightly to the left, where Pretty Little Thing continues to ignore him. “I don’t know what your plan is, but I don’t think I like it.” 

It’s a vast change from their earlier conversation. Sehun cares for Jongin, more than he’d like to admit. His concerns are something he can’t bring up in front of his roommate, probably because Jongin likes Kyungsoo a little more than he should. That’s not to say that Jongin is _in love_ with him, but that he’s far too naive to realise that Kyungsoo is poison.

“He’s uptight,” Kyungsoo says. Pretty Little Thing risks a glance at their table and catches Sehun’s eye. He looks away, flushed and scowling. Kyungsoo can’t quite catch the name etched into his tag. “He needs to loosen up a little.” 

“That doesn’t appease me in the slightest,” Sehun’s eyebrow remains raised. He’s uncharacteristically cool and calm, most likely an act for the barista whose eyes keep lingering on their table. “He’s not that prudish and he’s definitely not a social outcast,” another sip from his frappe, another missed moment of eye contact with Pretty Little Thing. “What’s your deal?” 

“He needs to lighten up, I told you,” Kyungsoo says, unable to offer any other explanation. There’s a pattern on the foam of his latte, three little hearts joined together by a line of textured milk. He has a feeling they were meant for Sehun.

“I’ve been living with him for six months,” Sehun uses his cup to point at Kyungsoo, “and he’s just a normal guy. There’s nothing to fix.” 

“I want to help him manage his stress levels,” Kyungsoo pushes, “and we both know that sex is the answer to that.” 

“I de-stress with chamomile tea and a bubble bath,” Sehun’s not even looking at him by this point, too distracted by the barista as he scurries around behind the counter, pointedly ignoring Sehun’s gaze with a flush to his cheeks. “You de-stress with heartbreak.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kyungsoo is instantly on the defensive, somehow he thinks Sehun is trying to insult him. 

“Jongin isn’t you,” Sehun explains, “and no amount of prolonged contact is going to change that.”

“I’m not trying to turn him into me,” Kyungsoo sighs, “I’m just—”

“You’re going to fuck Jongin, and it’s going to end in a broken heart,” Sehun interrupts, “though I’m not sure whose heart is going to break first.”

“I don’t have a heart to break,” Kyungsoo says. Sehun’s acting strange, introspective. He’s a little overprotective of Jongin and it shows, but Kyungsoo has never known Sehun to speak of love and heartbreak without mocking it. “And I’m not going to sleep with Jongin.” 

“You say that now,” Sehun hums, sipping at his frappe. His tone suggests that the conversation has ended, though Kyungsoo still has more questions, more mysteries to solve. 

\------

Kyungsoo is equal parts minor celebrity and urban legend. He’s got more rumours about him than he has friends to deflect them, some of them based on fact and others completely exaggerated. It’s at the point where Kyungsoo’s reputation is more recognisable than his face, and those he associates with end up with similar stories of their own. For people like Sehun, it’s a blessing. He can hook up, sleep around, do what he wants without consequence. No one expects him to stick around because his own mythos stems from the stories surrounding Kyungsoo.

He’s aware of his own reputation, and the adverse effect it will have on Jongin’s. People are always watching, enthralled and curious. It’s not often that Kyungsoo’s seen with someone new outside of the bedroom. People will talk, as people always do and though it should annoy or concern him, it doesn’t. Kyungsoo absolutely thrives off the attention. 

Jongin doesn’t. He stays on the sidelines, a beautiful wallflower. Being around Kyungsoo will destroy him as it destroyed Sehun--- he knows that Pretty Little Thing means more to Sehun than just a one night stand. Their friendship is probably what’s causing the friction, but Kyungsoo is selfish. If Pretty Little Thing can’t handle Kyungsoo, then his relationship with Sehun is going to crash and burn.

Kyungsoo knows what people say about the two of them, their whispers reaching his ears through Baekhyun and his gossip. It sits on the widely exaggerated side of the rumour scale, changing people’s perceptions and damaging potential relationships. People believe what they hear without question, and so Sehun, to those in the know, is apparently in love with Kyungsoo, following him around for a second chance between the sheets.

It’s ridiculous, completely untrue. But Kyungsoo is cautious and keeps his distance. He’s never initiated a second time together, nor has Sehun requested it. It can’t be true, it just _can’t_. 

Kyungsoo is affected by rumours, more than people know. 

Is it sadistic of him to be curious of Jongin’s impending status throughout the university? There’s a reason, a meaning, an explanation for his obsession with Jongin. He pushes it to the back of his head, cages it in with all the other thoughts he’s not allowed to think.

\------

Jongin is pleasant company. His taste in movies leaves a lot to be desired but at least he doesn’t talk through them, not like Kyungsoo’s other friends. 

“I never picked you for a movies kinda guy,” Jongin says, sipping at his glass of water. They’ve run out of anything with a high sugar content, both Jongin and Kyungsoo unwilling to move and find more. “From what I’ve heard, you barely make it through small talk.” 

“What?” Kyungsoo asks, distracted. Jongin’s film choice of the evening is more to Kyungsoo’s taste, a little more story and far fewer explosions. 

“I thought you were teaching me the ways,” Jongin looks smug. Kyungsoo’s never seen him without his default expression, or one of disgust. He’s never considered Jongin to be capable of more emotions, expressions, hasn’t yet realised that he’s a far more dimensional human being than Kyungsoo gives him credit for. 

“I don’t watch movies to pick up.” 

On screen, a woman screams, a chainsaw revs. What the film lacks in explosions it makes up with gore, red tinted corn syrup coating both set and actors. Kyungsoo’s never seen _American Psycho_ before, but he’s enjoying it. The black comedy, the commentary on excessive consumption, the unreliable narrator—it’s all fascinating. 

Jongin knows him better than he thought. 

“I thought you were supposed to be teaching me,” Jongin drawls, “I thought we weren’t friends.” 

“I’m easing you into it,” Kyungsoo replies, distracted. On the screen, a woman runs down the stairwell in fear, screaming and crying. “Can’t take you out of your comfort zone just yet.” 

“If you were there, I’d be comfortable,” Jongin says loaded words with the kind of nonchalance Kyungsoo only dreams of having. “Or are you embarrassed to be seen with me in public?”

“People will talk,” Kyungsoo mutters, “you don’t want that kind of reputation.” 

“True,” Jongin’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “I don’t wanna end up like Sehun.” 

Sehun and his longing glances and infatuated stares. Pretty Little Thing and the way he ignores them. Jongin isn’t the dirty little secret, Kyungsoo is. Someone to pass away the time when the curious gazes of the gossiping masses have turned away. He’s used to it, uses the shame and the guilt as protection, shields himself behind the feeling of being unwanted. 

“You won’t,” Kyungsoo says. He doesn’t pat Jongin’s thigh in comfort, doesn’t take his eyes away from the screen. 

Jongin mumbles something, words quiet and unintelligible. 

Patrick Bateman closes in on his victim.

\------

“Hi,” Pretty Little Thing offers his greeting out of courtesy alone, his tone rough and impatient. “Please tell Sehun to leave me alone.” 

“Tell him yourself,” Kyungsoo turns the page of his textbook, barely sparing a glance in his direction. It’s enough to pick up the name on his tag— _Luhan_ — before he settles back into his study. 

“You see him more often,” Luhan fiddles with the hem of his apron anxiously. 

“What are you so afraid of?” He asks, monotone, “Sehun’s hardly intimidating.” 

“Tell me about him,” Luhan says suddenly. The cafe is more or less empty, the few customers already seated and served. Several of Luhan’s co-workers stand behind the counter, cleaning and chatting. 

“He’s…” Kyungsoo pauses, “he’s great.” 

“You’re either lying or holding something back,” Luhan glances at the still empty cafe before taking a seat across from Kyungsoo. “And there are too many rumours to support both of those theories, so I’ll have to ask you to elaborate.” 

“Sehun’s a better person than the rumours make him out to be,” Kyungsoo shrugs, “I don’t know what else to say.” 

“And I don’t know what to do,” Luhan plays with the stack of napkins on the table, not quite able to meet Kyungsoo’s eye. 

“Can’t help with that, sorry,” Kyungsoo shrugs, “feelings aren’t my thing.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“The rumours again, really?” He responds, stretching in feigned boredom, “Gossip is above you.” 

“Jongin told me,” Luhan smirks at Kyungsoo’s surprise. “What, didn’t know Jongin had other friends?” He scoffs, “I’m sorry, but you don’t exactly have a monopoly over his time.” 

“Why are you here, Luhan?” Kyungsoo sighs, rubbing at his temples with exaggerated annoyance.

“To see if the rumours were true,” he replies. The door to the cafe opens, a group of students entering in search of shelter and caffeine. 

“What rumours?” Kyungsoo spots Jongin within the crowd. He frowns, briefly, at the sight of Kyungsoo and Luhan together. 

“All of them,” Luhan says. He stands, brushing the creases from his clothes.

“And?” Kyungsoo prompts. It’s not like him to care for people’s opinions of him, but he’s found himself caring of late, perhaps a little too much.

“I can disprove a few,” Luhan says, “others…” he trails off, eyes flicking between Jongin as he orders his coffee and where Kyungsoo still pretends to study. “Others I’m still not sure about.” 

He leaves, and Kyungsoo expects Jongin to take his place. He forgets, just for a moment, that Jongin doesn’t want to be seen with him, is ready to reignite one of their earlier conversations. Jongin slips past him without a word, and Kyungsoo remembers— sharing a table in the library looks like a coincidence, but sharing a table at a cafe is deliberate. 

Kyungsoo sits alone in his corner, the dirty little secret.

\------

A quiet weekday night, no noise save for the turning of pages and the scratches of pen against paper. Kyungsoo has a laptop for assignments, but he prefers to use a notebook to study. He learns quicker like that, absorbing information via muscle memory, ready to be repeated on his handwritten exams.

On the table next to him, his phone buzzes:

 _I got your number from Sehun,_ the text message says, _wondering when if you’re free tonight?_

It’s not uncommon for people to find his number and confess their desires through the screen of their phone. Though most of his anonymous suitors tend to try a little dirty talk or send photos to entice him, and this person has done none of the above. 

_Are you new at this or what?_ , Kyungsoo scoffs, _pics or no deal._

 _Of what?_ Jesus, he’s got a real hopeless case on his hands, but they’re always more fun to _ruin_. If the guy is half what attractive, Kyungsoo will be there. He may even lower his standards a little, just for the night. Virgins have always been his favourite. 

_You, preferrably without clothes._

_What the fuck no_

_You wanna do this or not?_ Kyungsoo grows impatient. He plays games but doesn’t play around; if this guy’s too naive for nudes he’s not worth the time.

 _It’s Jongin, you asshole,_ Kyungsoo can’t help but laugh. Of course it’s Jongin, _of course_ it is. Clueless Jongin who doesn’t know about the secret late night texts and dick picks sent during class, doesn’t know that Kyungsoo’s inbox is filled with more nude photos than pleasantries. Kyungsoo can’t remember the last time someone messaged him like this, just to chat and nothing more.

_I wanna go get food but Sehun’s out_

_Are you asking me on a date?_ He’s funny when he wants to be, and with the right people. Turns out Jongin is one of them, and it’s less of a shock than it should be. Being around Jongin is comfortable, normal. It’s probably what friendship feels, or at least something like it. 

_Would you say yes if it was?_ Jongin throws him for a loop. The worst part is not knowing the answer; Kyungsoo’s never been on a date before, and part of him is curious. The rest of him finds the whole concept so utterly nauseating, emotions contradicting themselves inside his head. 

_I wish I was there to see your face,_ Jongin continues, _I bet you look hilarious right now._

_you little shit,_ Kyungsoo replies, realising that Jongin has thoroughly played him. 

_did you laugh?_ He can almost picture Jongin’s grin. 

_I nearly had an aneurysm_

_so where are we meeting?_

So he’s serious, then. It’s not an invite to his house, it’s an invite _out_. Jongin must be desperate if he’s coming to Kyungsoo, can’t help but wonder how many people have rejected him before Jongin finally thought of him. 

_I’m craving Thai, but it’s up to you_

Kyungsoo sighs. 

_see you in 20_

\------

“You’re awfully touchy today,” Kyungsoo points out, motioning to the hand resting lightly on his forearm. “Are you that starved for affection?” 

Their booth is big enough for at least four people, there’s plenty of space for them to sit together without touching. Jongin treats him like an armchair, 

“I’m like this with everyone,” Jongin mumbles, embarrassed. He doesn’t shift his hand away, instead grasping tighter, as if to prove a point. 

Something about Jongin has changed. He’s not as uptight as Kyungsoo remembers; smiling at everything and nothing, his focus solely on Kyungsoo. People stare, they always do. Jongin seems not to notice, or is pointedly ignoring them. 

“People will think we’re fucking,” Kyungsoo points out, “you want that kind of rep?” 

“People can believe what they want,” Jongin shrugs, “I like your company, I want to hang out with you. If anyone has a problem with that, then that’s their issue and not mine.” 

So Jongin’s been soul searching, then. He knows enough about Kyungsoo to know what people say about his company, and he’s decided that the snide comments and hushed whispers are worth it. Kyungsoo isn’t a good person, and he’s definitely not worth the drama and effort that befriending him seems to take. Jongin is something else— pretty Jongin and his righteous morals, and for some reason he holds Kyungsoo’s friendship higher than his own reputation. 

“What do you do for fun?” Jongin knows about Kyungsoo, but he doesn’t know him at all. 

There’s so much he could talk about, from his favourite singers to his guilty pleasure of watching blackhead extraction videos. But that’s _too_ personal. Kyungsoo isn’t too good at opening up to people, and Jongin is no exception. 

“Get my dick sucked,” Kyungsoo deadpans. Another answer sits on the tip of his tongue. He swallows it along with a sip of water, something to keep his mouth busy. 

“Apart from that,” Jongin swats at his arm playfully, rolling his eyes. 

“Sometimes,” Kyungsoo says softly, it’s a ploy, a trick. “Sometimes I’ll suck a dick, instead.” 

Jongin groans, Kyungsoo laughs. 

“You’re insufferable,” Jongin says, though he smiles at Kyungsoo nonetheless. 

“You love it,” he replies. 

Jongin doesn’t refute it. 

\------

Kyungsoo rejects Jongin’s invitation for another movie night. It’s been too long since he’s been out, since he’s _hunted_. Anticipation and excitement thrums beneath this skin, his heart beating in time to the god awful music blaring from low-quality speakers. 

“Hey.”

People don’t chase Kyungsoo. He’s the one who acts first, it’s only fun to play when there’s a game. 

“I feel like this has been a long time coming,” a hand on his hip, someone whispering in his ear. 

Junmyeon is someone Kyungsoo knows by name, though not personally. The run in different circles, Junmyeon with his Queer Club and the straight boys he seduces, the girls whose hearts crush under the weight of his nonchalance. Kyungsoo with his old one night stands and Jongin. They’re similar people but they’re hardly friends. Magnets with equal magnetic poles repel one another. Kyungsoo and Junmyeon are exactly the same. 

“I suppose so,” Kyungsoo agrees, “should we just get this over with?” 

“This isn’t a chore,” Junmyeon kisses Kyungsoo on the cheek. He’s done a lot of things, but such mild, affectionate gestures are completely foreign to him. “It’s sex, and it’s supposed to be fun.” 

“Do you ever get bored of this?” Kyungsoo asks. Junmyeon removes himself from Kyungsoo’s back. 

“Woah, deep,” he laughs. He’s rather attractive, the smile he gives Kyungsoo sweet and disarming. “I never knew you were the philosophical type.” 

“I’m just running out of pretty faces to fuck,” Kyungsoo sighs, offering a smile of his own, “I should find myself a new hobby.”

“Or settle down,” Junmyeon offers. Kyungsoo looks shocked and he knows it. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

Parties are the worst place for meaningful conversations, everyone floats from one group to the other, joining part way through a discussion and leaving when they see fit. He sees why they’re called _social butterflies_ , what with they way they sit still for only moments at a time, constantly moving and erratic. Vapid and flighty, Kyungsoo sees a few butterflies on their way over to him, to Junmyeon. Kyungsoo takes Junmyeon by the hand and drags him outside. 

“You’re getting bored of it all, aren’t you?” Kyungsoo asks as they find some peace and quiet. He sips at the drink in his hand absentmindedly. 

“A little,” Junmyeon admits. They sit together, legs and shoulders pressed together. Kyungsoo’s not used to this much human contact while still fully clothed. “I’ve found someone.” 

Jongin comes to mind, completely unbidden. His smile, his laugh, his terrible taste in movies. Pretty, pretty Jongin, so easy to fall in love with. Kyungsoo pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind. 

“Yet here you are, seeking me out,” another sip, no response. “They’re not into you, are they?” 

Kyungsoo understand unrequited love in theory, though he’s had no personal experience with it. Honestly, it sounds awful. He’s glad he’s rarely afflicted with troubling things like feelings and emotion. 

“Church boys don’t go for guys like me,” Junmyeon replies wryly, “they don’t go for boys in general, but I got my hopes up.” 

“That’s…” Kyungsoo starts. He doesn’t know how to console people. “Wanna make out for a bit to take your mind off it?” 

“You’re as bad as they say,” Junmyeon laughs. Those rumours again. Why won’t they just go away? “But sure, why not.” 

Junmyeon kisses him with enough emotion that a broken hearted person is capable of. It’s not the sloppy kind of kissing Kyungsoo is used to, not hurried or rushed or full of lust. It’s nice, dare he say it. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hopes Junmyeon sticks around.

\------

“Minseok?” Sehun asks, pointing at someone in the crowd. Minseok dances with Luhan, a little too close to be friendly. Sehun is so unbelievably transparent. 

Jongin groans into his drink. 

“I don’t think Jongin would last a round with _Sir_ ,” Kyungsoo points out. Sehun knows about Minseok and his kinks from experience, and Kyungsoo knows because he walked in on it. “He’s a little intense.” 

“Yixing?” Sehun’s eyes light up, gesturing as he walks through the door, fashionably late and a nervous friend in tow. “You know Yixing, right? What about him?” 

“I’m not sleeping with my friends,” Jongin crosses his arms into an X in front of his torso. “So he’s out.” 

It’s probably for the best. Yixing’s friend looks uncomfortable and out of his depth. Yixing wouldn’t just abandon someone like that for a piece of ass, not even one as nice as Jongin’s.

“You’re being difficult,” Kyungsoo chides. Jongin has finally admitted to his painfully inactive and uneventful sex life. Kyungsoo’s still adamant in his quest to help Jongin to open up a little more, and Sehun’s ever eager to help. 

Baekhyun’s birthday and subsequent party serve at the perfect backdrop to put their plan into action. If worst comes to worst, Jongin can always makeout with Baekhyun for a while, the birthday boy seemingly on a quest to kiss every person in the room.

“I’m picky,” Jongin mutters, distracting Kyungsoo as he falls into his routine of people watching. “So sue me.” 

“How about we just get him drunk and see where his dick leads him?” Kyungsoo proposes, “we can keep the creeps away, and Jongin can get laid.” 

“You’d do that for me?” Jongin looks entirely too grateful. It’s just sex, nothing that should require such meticulous planning. 

“Sure,” Kyungsoo shrugs. It’s not that big of a deal. Yeah, he probably won’t be able to pick up, but he’s just spotted Junmyeon chatting to Yixing and his nervous friend, so he might have someone to go home with after all.

“What about Chanyeol?” Jongin says after a moment, pointing at the space where Chanyeol’s head peeks over the crowd. “Is he okay?” 

“I’d fuck him again,” Kyungsoo mentions casually, “he’s good with his mouth and does this _thing_ with his fingers---” 

“Too much information,” Jongin pushes him lightly. He’s smiling, though, so he can’t be too upset about Kyungsoo’s former conquests. 

“I second the finger thing,” Sehun adds, “but I also highly recommend Minseok.” 

“Thirding the finger thing and seconding the Minseok recommendation,” Kyungsoo doesn’t see Baekhyun from behind Sehun, the birthday boy sneaking through the crowd and barging their way into their conversation. “Though I’d suggest Kyungsoo as an alternative, he’s incredible in bed.” 

“Jongin doesn’t sleep with his friends,” Kyungsoo points out. Sehun’s laughing, the asshole. 

“You’re missing out,” Baekhyun sighs, “Kyungsoo’s cock is a _gift_.” 

“No thanks,” Jongin looks away, “I’m not interested.” 

“Chanyeol thinks you’re cute,” Sehun interrupts, showing his phone to Jongin. By the looks of it, he’s been messaging Chanyeol, and the response has come back in Jongin’s favour. “So if you wanted to try the finger thing?” 

“Fine,” Jongin sighs, “let’s do this before I change my mind.” 

He walks off, Sehun following closely behind. They leave Kyungsoo and Baekhyun alone, which is either a good thing or a terrible mistake. Kyungsoo’s not too sure where Baekhyun lies in the scheme of things. 

“I hope you’re my birthday present,” he says, cupping Kyungsoo lightly through his jeans. 

“How many people have you said that to?” Kyungsoo indulges him, resting his hand over Baekhyun’s and thrusting gently into the touch. 

“Just you,” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip, “I meant what I said. It’s my birthday and I deserve the best.” 

“Happy birthday,” Kyungsoo says with as much sincerity as he can muster. It’s not that he dislikes Baekhyun, but he’s never spoken to him about anything other than sex, they rarely spend time together while clothed. 

He’s lead through the hallway of Baekhyun’s apartment, past Jongin where he’s pinned to the wall by a very eager Chanyeol. Having never seen Jongin in a sexual light, he’s shocked. His mouth looks soft, pliant. Chanyeol swallows his groans, his pleased gasps as their bodies rock together. He looks incredible with his messy hair a kiss-bitten lips, his droopy eyes so beautiful and sensual as he makes eye contact with Kyungsoo in the hall. 

It’s hard to look away. 

Baekhyun tugs at his hand, drags him towards his bedroom. 

Jongin’s eyes slide closed as Chanyeol’s hand slips into his pants.

\------

Junmyeon sticks around. He sits with Kyungsoo and introduces him to new people and they become _friends_. He fits all of Kyungsoo’s criteria, so it’s not too much of a shock to his system. But for the first time, Kyungsoo actually has a social life. He’s emotionally exhausted and not open to admitting that he’s enjoying himself, but it’s progress. 

With Junmyeon comes Yixing, someone who never stayed, but only because he didn’t realise he was allowed to. Jongdae’s introduction comes later, along with the sudden realisation on Kyungsoo’s part the second he spots the crucifix pendant hanging from Jongdae’s neck. 

He talks to Baekhyun, sometimes. Chanyeol too. He’s surrounded by people at all times and he wonders what the Kyungsoo of six months ago would think of his current self. Would he be disgusted? Proud? Would he ask if the nagging feeling in his chest is _finally_ gone? Kyungsoo tries not to focus on emotions, prefers to leave them buried, just as he left them. 

Jongin becomes somewhat of a constant, the person who Kyungsoo spends the most time with. The concept of a best friend is lost on Kyungsoo, though he supposes Jongin’s the only person who fits the description. 

“A latte for your thoughts?” Sehun gently shakes the cardboard cup in his hands, placing it on the table in front of Kyungsoo. He doesn’t speak as loud as he usually does, though he’s still a little too vocal for the silence of the library. 

“I’m studying,” Kyungsoo says. Sehun has a sixth sense for Kyungsoo’s caffeine needs, but he’s assuming that Sehun had ulterior motives in visiting the cafe. As far as he knows, Luhan still isn’t really talking to him. 

“Your books are closed,” Sehun points out, “and so were your eyes. You were daydreaming.” 

“I needed coffee,” he sighs, “which you have supplied.” 

“I can supply advice, too, if you need it,” Sehun pushes, “it’s not like you to zone out like that.” 

“I’m tired.”

“You’re _conflicted_.” 

“You’re full of shit,” Kyungsoo replies, “honestly, I’m fine.” 

“If you say so.” 

Sehun sips at his frappe. The resulting _slurp!_ resonates through the library. 

\------ 

“You’ve slept with your entire friend group at least once,” Jongin likes to play a game of sorts, listing off rumours he’s heard to check the validity of them. It’s slightly masochistic of him, because he wants to know the truth but doesn’t want the details. Unfortunately, where Kyungsoo is concerned, the truth requires details, and so Jongin learns a little too much about his friend with each question. 

“I do have _some_ standards,” Kyungsoo yawns. He’s grown fond of his newfound friends. But there’s a few of them who don’t quite fit his criteria. Jongin is one, Jongdae another. Months ago he may have tried with both of them; pretty, pretty Jongin and unobtainable Jongdae. For now he’s happy without knowing how Jongin’s lips feel against his, or the noises he makes when he comes. 

They’re at Jongin’s apartment, some B-Grade movie playing in the background. Jongin has his head resting on Kyungsoo’s lap; he’s the kind of touchy friend that blurs the line between platonic and not with his affection. If it were anyone else, Kyungsoo would be expecting a blowjob at some point. But it’s Jongin, and Kyungsoo knows that he rests on his thighs because they’re comfortable. 

“Hmm,” Jongin scratches at his forehead as he thinks, “twenty guy gangbang?” 

“Five.” Kyungsoo corrects, “first year of university. There’s a video out there somewhere, I could track it down if you wanted to watch?” 

“No thanks,” Jongin scrunches his nose. “You have multiple guys on the go.” 

“On occasion,” Kyungsoo confirms, “it’s not a conscious effort, but it happens every once in awhile.” 

“You once sucked a guy off for course notes.” Jongin enquires. He’s oddly curious today, usually he asks about a single, recent rumour and then backs out once Kyungsoo starts talking semantics. 

“Wrong,” Kyungsoo boops Jongin on the nose. He doesn’t know why he does it, just the situation feels right. If Jongin can be overly affectionate, then so can Kyungsoo. Besides, he’s just engaging in skinship on a more Jongin-like level. Making him feel accepted and all that. “I sucked him off and he gave me the notes as a thank you present.” 

“You’re an awful human, you know that, right?” Jongin mutters sleepily, nuzzling into Kyungsoo’s thigh. 

“I can’t be that bad,” Kyungsoo replies, “you’re friends with me for a reason.” 

Jongin is silent. There’s no real reason as to their friendship. Or at least, not from Jongin’s perspective. Kyungsoo offers his friendship because the notoriously hot, notoriously prudish Kim Jongin needs to live a little before he graduates from that fancy ass, vaguely science-y degree of his. As the Number One Fun Guy on campus, Kyungsoo feels it’s his duty to show Jongin a life outside his textbooks. 

Jongin isn’t like him. The night he spent with Chanyeol was an outlier, not a regular occurrence. He hasn’t been with anyone since and has even rejected Chanyeol’s offer for a round two. He’s not the type stage a five guy gangbang because he’s bored, there are five guys who want to sleep with him and he can’t decide which one of them he takes home for the night. Not like Kyungsoo.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo prompts, nudging at Jongin’s forehead with his finger. “Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” 

They’ve been friends for a while, but Kyungsoo’s never asked. He’s equal parts curious and bored; he wants to know why Jongin so frequently ignores or rejects the passes made at him. All things considering, he’s probably more popular than Kyungsoo. If given the choice, most people would probably go straight for Jongin. But Jongin isn’t as easy as Kyungsoo, a much harder chase, and so he often goes overlooked.

“No time,” Jongin yawns, nuzzling back into Kyungsoo’s thigh, trying to escape the annoying prods. “Between homework and you, I don’t have time for anyone else.”

“Me?” Kyungsoo likes playing with Jongin’s hair. It’s soft and fluffy, the strands bounce back into place when he pulls on them.

“You’re needy.” Comes Jongin’s simple reply, “I can’t date anyone when you’re around.”

“I’m _not_ needy,” Kyungsoo pouts, “you’re needy.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jongin replies.

\------

Kyungsoo sleeps with Jongin. An innocent sharing of beds when the hour grows late and Kyungsoo can’t be bothered going home. 

It happens more than it should. 

He wakes up with Jongin’s arms draped across his chest, a leg across his hips. Jongin is as clingy while he sleeps as he is awake, affectionate and emotional. He’s always awake before Jongin is, takes to the habit of watching him sleep and admits to no one that Jongin is so very precious to him. He barely admits it to himself, judgment clouded by sleepiness as he watches Jongin fondly. 

Jongin’s hair is always messy in the morning, sticking up in every direction, unwilling to be tamed by anything other than a hairbrush. Kyungsoo likes to brush Jongin’s hair from his forehead, curl strands around his fingers while he waits for Jongin to wake up. 

“G’mornin’,” Jongin mumbles sleepily. He snuggles closer to Kyungsoo, head buried in the space between neck and shoulder. Jongin doesn’t need pillows when sleeping, not when Kyungsoo is around. 

“Morning,” Kyungsoo replies. He doesn’t recognise the tone of his voice, it’s too soft, gentle. He only seems to get this way around Jongin, and there are implications that he just doesn’t want to think about. 

Kyungsoo has never felt the urge to kiss someone. Usually, it’s the means to an end, a precursor for sex and something Kyungsoo doesn’t really enjoy. 

But Jongin isn’t just anyone, he’s beautiful and wonderful and warm. He lets Kyungsoo play with his hair and sees worth in Kyungsoo that doesn’t derive from sex. He’s not good for anything else, so he wonders what it is that Jongin sees in him. Pretty, pretty Jongin with his sleepy eyes and bright future. 

“You’re so cute in the morning,” Jongin says. His lips brush against Kyungsoo’s neck as he speaks. “Your hair is all fluffy.” 

“Says you,” Kyungsoo tugs lightly at a few unruly strands just to prove his point. 

Jongin smiles at him, soft and sleepy. Kyungsoo’s heart lurches in his chest. 

He’s never wanted to kiss anyone more.

\------

Kyungsoo can’t hear his ringtone over the noise, but he can feel the vibration of his phone from his back pocket. It remains unchecked and unanswered-- Kyungsoo doesn’t know why he brought his phone to begin with, probably something to do with the satisfaction of seeing the small missed call messages on the screen. 

It’s Jongin calling, of course it is. Everyone else texts or sends him a message on Facebook. Jongin is the only person who ever calls, and he’s calling off the hook. He’ll call until the battery drains but Kyungsoo won’t answer. Why would he? He’s having too much fun. 

The music is loud, Kyungsoo is drunk and there are curious hands tugging at his shirt. There are mouths on his neck, plural. Two, if he’s counting correctly, but there’s too much alcohol in his system to be entirely sure. He kisses one of them, then another. A third comes out of nowhere and he kisses them too. It’s nice to be the centre of this kind of attention; he’s in his zone, this is where Kyungsoo _thrives_.

To think he could have missed out on this, on the hands sliding under his shirt and the lips on his. This is what he’s been missing out on, all those nights he’s spent locked away with Jongin. 

_Jongin_. His phone vibrates again, another call to go unanswered. He’s skipping their unofficial night together, and has done so without telling Jongin. It’s just like him to be worried, though he knows enough about Kyungsoo to know that he’s out, he’s drunk and he intends on taking someone home. Someone that’s not Jongin. 

Avoidance is the best cure for feelings, Kyungsoo knows this. He distracts himself with the lips of others so he can forget the idea of Jongin’s.

(It’s not working.) 

He’ll sleep with as many people as it takes to forget, but there’s a constant buzzing in his pocket to remind Kyungsoo what he’s missing out on.

\------

“You’re an awful person and I don’t know why we’re friends,” Sehun frowns, pushing a bottle of Gatorade into Kyungsoo’s hand. He looks mad, but he’s still concerned over Kyungsoo’s well-being, so he can’t be all that angry. 

“What have I done now?” Kyungsoo’s tongue feels thick in his mouth, his entire body sore. There’s an ache in his neck that he’s sure comes from a well-placed bite mark. He rubs at the spot absentmindedly.

“You bailed on Jongin,” Sehun doesn’t have to say it. Kyungsoo already feels like shit, and it’s not just the hangover. “You ditched your best friend to hook up with half the campus.” 

“Did I?” Kyungsoo’s memory is fuzzy. He doesn’t remember much, only the burn of alcohol and the incessant buzzing of his back pocket. 

“Junmyeon saw, he said it wasn’t pretty.” Funny. Kyungsoo never knew they were friends. “And Jongin’s not too happy with you, either.” 

Of course he isn’t. Kyungsoo basically stood him up. 

“It’s not like we had any form of agreement,” Kyungsoo replies. His stomach churns, and he can’t wait for Sehun to leave. His plans for the day include hugging the toilet bowl and not much else. 

“You bailed on date night,” Sehun pushes. He still stands at Kyungsoo’s doorway, refusing to step foot inside the apartment. It’s not the kind of conversation to have in such a public space. Maybe an audience would shame Kyungsoo into apologising. 

“We don’t have date nights,” Kyungsoo is too tired for this shit. 

“Well, they sure seem like it.”

“Why do you keep pushing the idea of Jongin and me?” Kyungsoo rests a hand against his stomach, trying to will nausea away. 

“I’m not,” Sehun sighs, “I’m just telling you what it looks like from an outsider’s perspective.” 

“I don’t care what outsiders think,” Kyungsoo says. His stomach lurches and he dry heaves, he wraps a hand across his mouth in preparation. Sehun looks concerned, but he takes a step back in caution, just in case. 

Nausea ebbs away, just slightly. Kyungsoo removes his hand, motioning to Sehun that he’s fine. He hopes the display is enough to send Sehun running. Kyungsoo hates conversations like this, and he _will_ throw up on Sehun if it’ll make him leave. 

“Please,” Sehun begs, “please don’t get your heart broken.” 

“If the rumours are to be believed,” Kyungsoo starts, breaking the seal on his Gatorade. “Then I don’t exactly have a heart to break.” 

“Don’t be a cliche piece of shit,” Sehun scolds. He smiles, tight-lipped. Still worried. “Feel better soon, you asshole.” 

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo says. 

The door closes and nausea resurfaces. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he finally throws up. 

\------

Despite Sehun’s mini-lecture and words of warning, nothing really changes between Kyungsoo and Jongin. He’s still the same constant presence he always was, never mentioning the night Kyungsoo abandoned him or the forty-three missed calls.

It’s like it never happened, and if Jongin’s over it then so is Kyungsoo. He has half the mind to believe that Sehun was just trying to start shit, because it’s such a Sehun thing to do. Maybe Kyungsoo hooked up with Luhan or something. It’s not like he remembers, and he honestly wouldn’t put it past himself to go for his best friend’s—well, whatever Luhan is—just because he’s _bored_.

If anything Jongin becomes more touchy, needy. If it were anyone else then he’d find it all so awfully stifling, irritating. But Jongin has fit himself within Kyungsoo’s life as he fits so perfectly within Kyungsoo’s lap. When Jongin isn’t around, he’s so unbelievably lost. 

“This movie isn’t as good as I remembered,” Jongin says. His voice is muffled by Kyungsoo’s thigh, his makeshift pillow for the evening. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo agrees. He hasn’t really been paying attention, his focus on the way Jongin’s hair curls around his fingers as they scratch at his scalp. “Though I think I was making out with someone the last time I saw it.” 

“Should we make out, then?” Jongin doesn’t sound nervous, he sounds like he’s making a joke. An awful one at that. Kyungsoo’s hand stills as he tries to stop himself from saying yes, or from pushing Jongin into the couch instead. 

“Funny,” Kyungsoo says. He collects himself, tugging on one of Jongin’s curls. 

_It’s just a joke it’s just a joke it’s just a joke_ — 

“I’m not joking,” Jongin says, sitting up. He looks serious, and Kyungsoo doesn’t like his expression like this. Jongin is the most beautiful when he smiles, why isn’t he smiling—

“What?” There are so many thoughts running through Kyungsoo’s head, none of which filter from his brain and to his mouth. If it were anyone else, he’d already be sucking on their tongue. But it’s not just anyone, it’s _Jongin_. Beautiful, untouchable Jongin. 

“You told me that your friends were just people you slept with,” Jongin explains. He’s being too logical, too literal. Friendship isn’t defined through sex, but Kyungsoo’s never been good at meeting people without it. “So I figured, why not? You’ll keep up the tradition and I’ll stop feeling so left out.” 

“You’re not missing out on much,” Kyungsoo tries to argue. It hurts, because at this moment he wants nothing more than Jongin, and everything he’s willing to give him. But it’s for the best, honestly, it is. 

“Okay,” Jongin says. He’s so precious, not wanting to force, argue or coerce. Kyungsoo’s said no, and he’s accepting it. Jongin is beautiful, perfect, and Kyungsoo doesn’t deserve him. 

He doesn’t deserve him, but oh does he _want_. Kyungsoo has tried to forget Jongin, but something blooms in his chest, unfamiliar, unnamed emotions that sprout each time Kyungsoo even thinks of him. It’s a warmth that spreads as his fingertips burn while they drag along Jongin’s skin. 

“I want to,” Kyungsoo says quietly. He’s not usually so reserved, but for once he’s nervous— it could still be a joke, he could still face rejection. It’s an unease he hasn’t felt in _years_. 

“This isn’t pity,” Jongin says. He shifts closer to Kyungsoo, slowly, gently. Kyungsoo lets Jongin come to him, terrified of scaring him off. “Not on either of our parts. It’s just for fun.” 

“Fun,” Kyungsoo croaks. Jongin doesn’t mention feelings because he doesn’t have to. Kyungsoo can’t love, so why should he be reminded not to? A lump settles in his throat. “Yeah, this is just for fun.” 

Jongin’s hand rests on his shoulder, thumb stroking gently at his neck. In any other situation, Jongin’s gestures would be a friendly kind of affectionate, it’s just the type of person he is. But Jongin pairs his affection with the intention to kiss Kyungsoo, and it’s already too much. 

Kyungsoo’s never seen the point in kissing, and perhaps it’s because he’s been kissing the wrong people all along. Jongin isn’t inexperienced, just gentle. He doesn’t start with teeth and tongues, just the feeling of lips on lips, the curl of Jongin’s fingers in Kyungsoo’s hair. It’s too soft of a kiss to be _just for fun_ , it’s not the way hook ups start out.

Wrapping his arms around Jongin’s waist, Kyungsoo sighs. It’s nice, too nice. He’s going to think about kissing Jongin for the rest of his life, he could kiss the world and never find anyone whose lips feel the way Jongin’s do. 

He smiles. He can’t help himself. Jongin tightens his hold on Kyungsoo’s hair and kisses the smile straight from his mouth, a little harder this time, a little more desperate. This is more familiar territory for Kyungsoo; a tongue against his, teeth digging into his lip, Jongin’s breathy moans as fingernails dig into his hip. 

“You’re good at this,” Jongin sounds breathless, like Kyungsoo has pulled the oxygen from his lungs. And maybe he has, maybe Kyungsoo steals air as easily as he steals hearts. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

It’s probably the wrong thing to say, but Kyungsoo isn’t known for his filter. Talking about previous hook ups doesn’t usually feel like such a taboo, but no one else’s brows have creased in displeasure at the mention of others. Kyungsoo presses his lips against the frown line, so soft and gentle. He wills Jongin’s uncertainty away with affection. 

Jongin returns it two-fold. It’s like a switch is flipped or something equally as cliche, where Jongin’s softness is replaced by a little more passionate. Kyungsoo takes control, because that’s just how he is. He pulls Jongin’s shirt from his body, running his hands along smooth skin. He doesn’t have a chance to look, not with the way Jongin pulls his hair and sucks his tongue. Kyungsoo is preoccupied with the way it _feels_ , abandoning sight for the sensation of touch. 

They should move to Jongin’s bedroom or even the floor. The couch is too small for their limbs, it’s awkward and uncomfortable but Kyungsoo can’t pull himself away, not even for a moment. He’s frantic, and Jongin picks up on the atmosphere. Hands fumble in their haste, clothes coming off awkwardly, getting caught on knees and elbows before falling into a pile on the floor. 

“We’re naked,” Jongin says in disbelief, kicking his underwear off his foot. “We’re naked and we’re doing this.” 

“We can stop?” Kyungsoo sits up, regarding Jongin curiously. He doesn’t want to stop, but if Jongin is uncomfortable—

“No,” Jongin shakes his head. It’s strange, they sit on the couch as they normally do, only sans clothes and with kiss swollen lips. “I want to keep going.” 

Jongin lies back, propping his head up on a pillow, using his legs to draw Kyungsoo in. He wraps his legs around Kyungsoo’s waist, trapping him there, crotches brushing and nails already digging into Kyungsoo’s shoulder blades

“You’re beautiful,” Kyungsoo whispers. He doesn’t know what comes over him, why he confesses something so incriminating. His thoughts are his own and not for the world to hear, but now Jongin knows just one of the things that goes through his head. It should be terrifying, but Jongin already knows Kyungsoo better than everyone else. What’s one more piece of information to his Kyungsoo Encyclopedia?

“I bet you say that to everyone,” Jongin says, though he blushes under the attention. Kyungsoo memorises the shape of Jongin’s face using his fingertips. 

“Just you,” Kyungsoo replies, truthfully. He doesn’t usually talk in bed, sex being no place for a conversation. But with Jongin it feels natural; their relationship is based around talking, so sex is naturally the same. 

Jongin kisses him suddenly. It could be a surge of affection, it could be to stop Kyungsoo from talking. It works as intended, Kyungsoo bites at Jongin’s bottom lip, lowering his crotch to brush against Jongin’s. They rut together, Jongin panting as their cocks slide against each other, Kyungsoo sucking bruises into Jongin’s neck. It’s not like him to leave marks, but extended make out sessions and calling people _beautiful_ aren’t exactly his usual style, either. 

Sex with Jongin is a blur, tangled limbs and heated kisses. Kyungsoo can barely move, what with the way Jongin holds him so tightly, though he can’t bring himself to pull away, not for a second. He’s never experienced anything like it; the sex itself is fairly routine, but there’s something there that’s different to every other encounter he’s had— it’s not rushed, nor messy. Jongin isn’t too loud or too quiet. 

It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. 

Kyungsoo comes with a muffled groan, he mouths lazily at the skin of Jongin’s chest as he comes down from his sex-induced high. With sure strokes, he takes Jongin’s cock into his hand, getting him off while they kiss slowly, Kyungsoo tasting Jongin’s moans as they fall from swollen lips. 

“That was…” Jongin starts, pulling his underwear on. He doesn’t bother with the rest of his clothes, it’s far too hot in the apartment for anything but the barest of covers. 

Kyungsoo wants to reply, tell him it was _amazing perfect wonderful_ , that nothing will ever compare to Jongin, that everyone else has been ruined for him, probably forever. 

“That was fun,” Jongin continues, giggling a little to himself. “But let’s never do it again.” 

They say heartbreak is painful, but Kyungsoo feels nothing but emptiness. 

 

\------

It takes Kyungsoo far too long to admit that his feelings for Jongin are a little more than platonic. It’s so unlike him to fall for someone, and while he’s unfamiliar with love, he can’t really think of anything else to describe the way he feels. _Like_ is too gentle, there isn’t enough emotion behind it. _Like_ isn’t all consuming, isn’t _like_ that eats away at his chest, the ache overtaking the emptiness as time passes. 

Wallowing in self-pity is the coping mechanism for the weak minded. Kyungsoo isn’t as strong as he makes himself out to be, but that’s what the walls are for— a solid exterior to deflect and protect as he cowers behind them. 

He doesn’t blame Jongin. It’s no one’s fault that everything is so pathetically one-sided, and Kyungsoo isn’t petty enough to take his own heartbreak out on Jongin. He’s an awful human being, it’s true. But he’s not the type to antagonise someone over their lack of romantic attraction. 

Still. It _hurts_. The heartbreak he sees in movies can’t possibly compare to the real thing. It’s not something fixed with ice cream and sad songs, and Kyungsoo is ashamed to admit that he tries it-- the love ballads and the chocolate chips do nothing to soothe him, if anything they make it worse. 

Hoarse, heartbroken and nursing a stomach ache, Kyungsoo tries to sleep, hoping that his dreams are a little kinder than his reality.

\------

“So,” Sehun settles between Kyungsoo and Jongin on the couch. Things aren’t exactly awkward, though they are a little tense. “I heard you two fucked.” 

“You didn’t hear,” Jongin mumbles grumpily, “I _told_ you.” 

“You told him?” Kyungsoo is surprised. He knows that Jongin and Sehun are close, but he always thought that sex was an off-limits topic between the two of them. 

“Who was better, me or him?” Sehun asks. He flutters his eyelashes at Kyungsoo, an over exaggerated attempt at seduction. It doesn’t work on him, not anymore. 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo replies truthfully. He tries to be nonchalant, but Sehun’s raised eyebrow means he’s either transparent or unsuccessful. 

“How was it for you?” Sehun asks Jongin, swatting him playfully on the thigh. “God, I feel like a sex therapist.” 

“You’re a terrible therapist,” Jongin mutters, “but it was good. Really good.” 

“A repeat performance, maybe?” Sehun wiggles his eyebrows. Neither Kyungsoo nor Jongin makes a move to reply. “It can’t have been _that_ good,” Sehun continues, “if neither of you are willing to go again.” 

“It was a one-time thing,” Jongin says. He shifts awkwardly in his seat. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want the conversation to continue; he’s not like Kyungsoo and Sehun, he doesn’t like to discuss his sex life with others. 

“Just to get it over with, you know?” Kyungsoo adds. 

Sehun doesn’t look convinced.

“Whatever you say.”

\------

For all intents and purposes, Jongin is avoiding Kyungsoo. They still spend small amounts of time together, moments where contact is avoidable. Those situations usually involve Sehun, so there’s someone for both of them to hide behind. Kyungsoo’s never felt awkward with someone after sleeping with them, but there’s a first time for everything, from post-sex uncertainty to the realisation of feelings. 

Kyungsoo misses Jongin. It’s been weeks since they last spent time together, just the two of them. It’s not the same with Sehun around, though he’s getting awfully good at breaking awkward silences and changing topics when they take dangerous turns towards the nature of Kyungsoo and Jongin’s relationship. 

But what’s done is done, and Kyungsoo waits patiently for Jongin to get over whatever it is that’s bothering him. He’ll be there, waiting, for when Jongin’s attitude returns to normal. Kyungsoo isn’t all that unaffected; how can he forget the one night he’ll ever have with Jongin? But there’s no time to mourn the tattered ruins of their friendship. There’s no single part of Kyungsoo’s being that regrets sleeping with Jongin. It was his first and only chance, and he took it. Kyungsoo is nothing, if not selfish. 

Still, he tries to rid his mouth of the taste of Jongin’s kisses, takes willing soul after willing soul into his bed in compensation. He washes his sheets and basks in the attention of others, hoping for one moment that it’ll make him forget the feeling of Jongin’s lips on his skin and the feeling of Jongin’s legs around his waist. 

“You’re an idiot,” Sehun says. He has Luhan by the hand, waiting to use the bedroom that Kyungsoo stumbles out of. He doesn’t remember the name of the guy still seated on the bed, probably searching for the clothes Kyungsoo threw across the room. He was tall, but not tall enough. He didn’t moan like Jongin, didn’t have the same look in his eyes that Jongin had. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kyungsoo mutters, pushing past. Usually, he’d stop to congratulate Sehun on his fantastic choice in partner, but not tonight. He’s got this unpleasant taste in his mouth, and Kyungsoo can only hope that alcohol will wash it away.

\------

It’s rare for Kyungsoo to take someone home. He makes exceptions, mostly for friends or when there is no other option. The kid he has bent over the arm of his couch apparently lives with his parents, so his house was out of the question. Kyungsoo lives alone, so there’s no opportunity for anyone to walk in, nor to be bothered by the noise. 

And the kid is noisy. Kyungsoo calls him _kid_ , but he’s the same age as Jongin and Sehun, little first years who haven’t been warned not to stay away from big, bad people like Kyungsoo. Not quite virginal yet still impossibly naive, it took next to no effort on Kyungsoo’s part to seduce him away from his table and onto Kyungsoo’s couch. 

“I’ll come back later.”

Funny, Kyungsoo never heard the door open. He’s been rather preoccupied, and the sound of moans and skin on skin probably masked the squeaking of the hinges. Jongin doesn’t move, he just stares at Kyungsoo and his unnamed partner with something that looks a little like disgust. 

“Why didn't you tell me that you were coming over,” Kyungsoo says. He doesn’t bother pulling out, he completely ignores the person beneath him to focus on Jongin. 

“I sent you a message,” Jongin clears his throat awkwardly, inspecting the carpet. “I suppose you were too busy to read it.” 

“I’m not busy now,” Kyungsoo says. His bed partner squeaks out an affronted _hey!_ in response, though he goes unnoticed. 

“You look very busy,” Jongin points out. He’s sought Kyungsoo out, wants to spend some time together by the looks of it. And instead of finding Kyungsoo on his own, he’s found him balls deep in someone else. If Jongin asks for his name, Kyungsoo won’t be able to remember it. Though, he supposes, knowing the names of his one night stands isn’t really his style, and Jongin knows it. 

“He was just leaving,” Kyungsoo assures him. 

He pulls out quickly, probably too fast to be entirely comfortable. The kid dresses quickly, leaves scowling, though otherwise silent. Kyungsoo can’t wait to hear the rumours this one spreads. Something to do with jealous ex-boyfriends, a long winded and entirely fabricated tale about Jongin’s possessiveness. He wonders how this will affect Jongin’s reputation, but mostly he’s scared that the kid will spread the truth; that Do Kyungsoo is in love. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Jongin, to his credit, doesn’t look nearly as disgusted as he should. He sits on the opposite side of the couch to the still-drying patch of pre-come and lube, and does so with dignity. 

“You’re more important,” Kyungsoo shrugs. He’s only wearing his underwear. Jongin’s seen him in less, and he’s too tired to pull anything more on. If he gets cold, there’s a blanket draped along the back of the couch, and hopefully, Jongin has figured out his issues and once again able to provide body heat. 

“I’m more important than sex,” Jongin deadpans, “somehow, I don’t believe you.” 

“It’s true,” Kyungsoo replies quietly, “you mean more to me than anyone else.” 

It’s the closest thing to a confession that Kyungsoo is willing to make. If Jongin doesn’t want to believe him, then it’s his own fault; Kyungsoo would remain celibate for the rest of his life if it meant that Jongin would just _look at him_.

He’s met with silence. 

\------

It takes time, but their friendship returns to normal, in the end. Jongin doesn't mention the time they slept together, nor the time he caught Kyungsoo fucking a nameless guy on the couch. From the outside and from Jongin's point of view, nothing ever happened. 

And if that’s what it takes, then so be it. Kyungsoo would rather have an in denial Jongin than a distant one. Touches slowly change from hesitant to comfortable, their skinship returning to its natural state. Jongin comes over a little more often, claiming that Sehun’s too loud and intrusive, and that he just wants to spend some quiet time alone with Kyungsoo. 

What he has with Jongin aligns perfectly with Kyungsoo’s idealised relationship. It used to be an intrusive thought, a ‘what if’ for when he’s alone, lonely and sick of lying to himself. He’s always imagined something like this, casual dates and no fuss, cuddling on the couch and personal jokes. Friendship with extra perks and monogamy; he hates himself for how much he wants it. 

It’s frightening how _docile_ he is around Jongin. Sehun’s noticed, has commented on it before. He says Kyungsoo is _comfortable_ in Jongin’s presence, but there’s a difference between feeling comfortable and being unobtrusive— Kyungsoo thrives on attention, but with Jongin, he’s willing to play vines to Jongin’s wallflower. 

They _cuddle_. It’s sweet, innocent, almost platonic but only because the feeling of Jongin’s arms around him makes Kyungsoo’s heart beat double time in his chest. He can’t be the only one affected, not with the way Jongin’s breath hitches when Kyungsoo runs a gentle thumb along the line of Jongin’s collar bone. 

Jongin’s decided they should commit to a TV series instead of movies, something they can watch together, a weekly ritual to guarantee that Kyungsoo will see him. Kyungsoo doesn’t have to speculate on Jongin’s motives, because he was told the moment the show’s opening theme started that the whole thing is just a thinly veiled excuse to spend time together. 

Kyungsoo is hopeful, and it’s not an emotion he experiences often, especially in this context. Jongin wants to see him, wants to spend time alone with him. He picks a series Kyungsoo will like, with characters he relates to. They cuddle, and sometimes Kyungsoo gains enough courage to hold Jongin’s hand. It’s nice, too nice. Jongin is better than he deserves. 

“You liking it so far?” Jongin’s voice is soft, his words whispered into Kyungsoo’s hair. He swears he feels a kiss pressed to the side of his head. 

“I am,” Kyungsoo lies. He’s too distracted by Jongin and the feelings he evokes to concentrate on cartoons about anthropomorphic animals and their struggles. He laughs when Jongin does, prompted by the soft rise and fall of his chest as he giggles. 

“You know,” Jongin says quietly. Kyungsoo can barely hear him over the sound of the TV. “I haven’t seen you with anyone since…” 

“I haven’t really felt like it,” he tries to act nonchalant. It probably doesn’t work as well as he intends. 

“I’m worried,” Jongin pokes him in the side, a good-natured jab. “It’s not like you to go so long without sex.” 

“And it’s not like you to bring it up,” Kyungsoo counters. He needs to change the topic, revert Jongin’s attention back to the show they’re watching. It’s dangerous territory, and with Kyungsoo as content as he is, there’s the possibility for confessions, words he can never take back. 

“Like I said,” Jongin replies, “I’m worried.” 

“Why would I need anyone else when I have you?” 

It’s not a confession but it’s close; Kyungsoo toes a line, and with the way Jongin stiffens, he’s not sure if he should cross it. On one hand, it gives him a chance to hurt and move on. On the other, Jongin might run away again, this time for good. Kyungsoo would rather let his feelings run their course and come out on the other side, unscathed and with a friend. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Jongin pulls away, his arm falling from Kyungsoo’s shoulder, creating distance between the two of them. “I might start getting the wrong idea.” 

“Is the idea what’s wrong, or your perception of it?” Kyungsoo asks. He misses Jongin’s touch already. 

“Both,” Jongin replies.

\------

Sehun wiggles his fingers at a blushing Luhan. Kyungsoo’s been too busy with Jongin to ask how their relationship is progressing, but judging by the kiss Luhan blows back in Sehun’s direction, it’s going well. 

“So,” Sehun starts. He has his customary frappe in hand, but he hasn’t drunk enough of the liquid for it to _slurp!_ obnoxiously. “You didn’t hear this from me, but—” 

“I never hear anything from you,” Kyungsoo interjects. Sehun thrives on drama, and he’s never been sure where he sources his information from. It’s probably Baekhyun— he’s friends with everyone and a blabbermouth once he hits the vodka. 

“This isn’t gossip,” Sehun says, “this is an exclusive truth bomb and it’s for your ears only.” 

“I’m listening,” Kyungsoo doesn’t have high hopes. Sehun rarely has information he wants to hear, and ‘exclusives’ usually revolve around people’s opinions of him in bed. 

“It’s about Jongin,” he continues, “and you’re _really_ going to want to hear this.” 

“Get on with it,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Jongin isn’t one to start, nor be involved in anything Sehun considers gossip worthy. Unless he’s suddenly taken to hosting orgies in their dorm room, there’s not much Sehun can say that will shock, awe or surprise him. 

“He’s into you,” Sehun looks smug. He takes a sip of his frappe and winks at Luhan like he hasn’t shifted Kyungsoo’s entire worldview. “He’s never going to admit it, but I thought you should know.” 

“Why would I want to know that?” Kyungsoo’s mouth feels dry. He drinks half his latte in one go, ignoring the way it scalds his tongue. He would try and appear unbothered by the information, but it’s honestly unbelievable and completely out of the blue. 

“Because you never talk about your feelings,” Sehun starts, “you have one of two options,” he raises two fingers in the air, dropping one with each point. “You either confess your undying love, or deal with the problem accordingly.” 

“You said he’d break my heart,” Kyungsoo says. Thinly veiled confessions are becoming far more common. He wonders if it’s time to speak his feelings outright. “If our feelings are mutual, then what could go wrong?” 

“Everything,” Sehun replies solemnly. Kyungsoo’s finally admitted out loud that he likes Jongin, but he hasn’t received the response he was expecting. “He doesn’t want to be in love with you, Kyungsoo.”

“What.”

“He would say no if you asked him out,” Sehun sighs, “he wants you, but he doesn’t at the same time.” 

“You’re not making any sense,” Kyungsoo replies. He resists the urge to tug at his hair in frustration. “He likes me, I like him. What’s there to complicate?” 

“Don’t ask him out,” Sehun’s voice is more serious than Kyungsoo is used to. “I’m serious. Get over him, move on, leave it be.” 

“But what if I can’t?” 

Sehun blinks. His face twists; concern, worry, pity. He understands now, just how Kyungsoo feels. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

\-----

Kyungsoo’s never been too good at following directions. There’s a discussion they need to have, Kyungsoo and Jongin, with no input from Sehun. He appreciates the concern, honestly. But it’s not his place. Kyungsoo hasn’t tried to interfere with Sehun’s relationship, and it’s not really his place to interfere with Kyungoo’s. 

He knocks on Jongin’s door, fully aware that he’s home alone. He’s been invited over, after all, beckoned to fill the silence Sehun has left behind. 

“Hey!” Jongin looks happy to see him. He always does. Jongin is the only person who seems to enjoy Kyungsoo’s company over others; enthusiasm he once thought was friendship now revealed to be something more. 

“I’ve missed you,” Kyungsoo says. 

He hugs Jongin, like he always does when he sees him. Only this time he holds on a little tighter, doesn’t quite pull back once it finishes. His hands linger on Jongin’s shoulders, he uses them for leverage as he presses a kiss to Jongin’s lips. It’s soft, simple. A greeting, though something a little more intimate than usual. Kyungsoo expects to see Jongin’s dopey smile as he pulls away, but he’s met with a frown. 

“Kyungsoo…” Jongin trails off, “Sehun told you, didn’t he?” 

“He did,” Kyungsoo goes in for another kiss, and is surprised when Jongin pushes him away. 

“Please don’t do this to me.” 

Jongin sounds pained, his eyes closed and mouth still curled into a frown. 

“Why not?” Kyungsoo steps forwards. Jongin steps back. He’s trying to run away, but Kyungsoo’s never been one to give up on a chase. 

“I’m in love with you,” Jongin says, “but why would I want to be?” 

“Is this because I sleep around?” Kyungsoo asks, genuinely curious. He knows Jongin has never quite approved of his lifestyle, but he can’t imagine it being this much of a problem. 

“That’s not the issue,” Jongin sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s never been the issue.” 

“Then what _is_ the issue?” The frustration seeps into Kyungsoo’s voice. He’s getting irritated, and it’s not the kind of emotion he can just push down. “I like you, you like me. I can’t see the problem, here.”

“I don’t like you,” Jongin can’t seem to look at Kyungsoo. It’s an avoidance technique; if he can’t see the problem, then in some way it doesn’t exist. “Kyungsoo, I _love_ you. It’s different for me.” 

“I love you too,” Kyungsoo says it aloud. It feels good, getting it off his chest. 

“Do you even know the meaning of the word?” Jongin bites out, “I’m sorry, but from what I’ve seen, you’re pretty incapable of human emotions.” 

It hurts. Probably a little more than it should. 

“Please understand,” Jongin says softly, “this,” he gestures between the two of them, “this would never work.” 

“If that’s what you want,” Kyungsoo has lost the ability to fight. Jongin has made up his mind, and if Kyungsoo’s learnt anything, it’s that Jongin is very stubborn when he wants to be. 

“It is,” Jongin nods, mostly to himself, “I hope you can understand.”

“I can’t,” Kyungsoo admits, “but I can try.” 

It’s the best he can do.

\------

They drift apart. It’s completely unplanned, though probably for the best. They still see each other on occasion, and their interactions are detached, yet pleasant. Sometimes Kyungsoo catches Sehun watching him with this _look_ in his eyes; something like pity. Kyungsoo never says it out loud, but getting over Jongin is the hardest thing he’s ever done. 

Final exams come and go, and Kyungsoo finds out through Sehun that Jongin’s passed them all with flying colours. He offers a congratulatory text message, though predictably, it goes unanswered. Personal messaging is the kind of contact that Jongin’s been avoiding, though he’s assured that Jongin appreciated the sentiments. 

Kyungsoo is becoming a better person, and for real this time. He still has his occasional one night stand, though he sticks around, makes them breakfast and parts with them amicably. No one comes to him expecting commitment, anyway. A few of them keep in contact, and like the people before them, they slowly but surely join Kyungsoo’s ever expanding group of friends. He feels good, wanted. Loneliness is an emotion slowly slipping into Kyungsoo’s distant memory.

He tries dating for a while, shocking everyone by announcing his new relationship with Baekhyun, of all people. It’s nice, comfortable. A different kind of comfort that Jongin once offered but it’s no less pleasant; Baekhyun is everything he’s ever wanted in a partner—friendship with a few more benefits, that added monogamy. He ignores the nagging in his head that points out that Baekhyun isn’t Jongin, he’ll never be Jongin. They’re different people, wonderful in their own way. Dating Baekhyun is a spur of the moment decision that Kyungsoo doesn’t regret, he’s learnt so much, comes to appreciate Baekhyun more through a relationship rather than friendship. 

It’s good, but it fizzles out. Their affection lies elsewhere, two souls hopelessly enamoured with other people, taking solace from heartbreak in each other’s arms. Their breakup is mutual and without fuss, in fact, most people don’t notice until weeks after it happens. They were better off as friends, anyway, and the whole experience has bettered Kyungsoo. He’s not who he used to be. Some part of him will always love Baekhyun in a way, though it’s not the same love he feels for Jongin. He knows Baekhyun feels the same. 

Jongin dates too. Someone from one of his classes. They run in different friend circles, and the two never quite mix. But they’re a cute couple, Jongin and Taemin. It’s hardly the most pleasant of feelings, knowing that Jongin has moved on, but he’s smiling more, looks so much happier. 

Kyungsoo is jealous, of course he is. Jealousy is natural, and he never lets it consume him. He’s supposed to be moving on, just as Jongin has. But he finds it so hard to let go, lying awake at night and wishing Jongin was there next to him. 

He comes to term with it, slowly, painfully. Though melodramatic of him, Kyungsoo believes that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves Jongin. He wants him to be happy, and he’s never seen Jongin as happy as he is with Taemin. 

Sometimes love doesn’t work out. And Kyungsoo would rather Jongin being happy in someone else's arms than miserable on his own.

\------

_I miss you._

Jongin’s text comes one month after Kyungsoo’s breakup, almost to the day. It’s completely unexpected and out of the blue. Jongin hasn’t answered any of Kyungsoo’s texts since the confession, and their already infrequent interactions have undergone yet another rapid decrease. 

Kyungsoo should ignore Jongin, give him a taste of his own medicine. It’s what the old Kyungsoo would do, and he’s sure that Jongin isn’t expecting a response. But Kyungsoo is weaker than Jongin knows, desperate for any interaction, just a single conversation to tide him over until their next forced contact. 

_I miss you too._

Jongin organises a movie night, just like they used to. Apparently, there’s another mature-content cartoon he hasn’t seen and is apparently missing out on, Jongin appalled by the fact that Kyungsoo isn’t even aware of its existence. He used to watch cartoons with Baekhyun, anime series he’s now ashamedly addicted to. It’s funny how different they are, Baekhyun and Jongin. 

They don’t hug when Jongin enters Kyungsoo’s apartment, unchanged apart from the framed photograph of Baekhyun and Kyungsoo sitting on the counter. It’s a nice photo, and Kyungsoo doesn’t feel like taking it down, not just yet. Jongin stares at it for a moment too long but doesn’t comment. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure that Jongin knows about the breakup. 

The cartoon is as great as Jongin said. They sit on opposite sides of the couch, but he’s _here_ , he’s with Kyungsoo and that’s all that matters. Taemin probably wouldn’t approve of cuddles, probably doesn’t approve of Jongin being with Kyungsoo at all, considering their history. But it’s enough, Kyungsoo tells himself. _This is enough_.

“Do you,” Jongin starts, awkward and unsure. It’s the wrong point in the series for conversation, but Jongin has had something to say all night, turning to Kyungsoo, pausing and looking away before the words reach his lips. “Do you still love me?” 

Kyungsoo laughs, because it’s all he can do. It’s not a laugh of amusement, more pained. A violent exhale, an expression of shock.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks. 

“A serious one,” Jongin says. He pauses the cartoon, regarding Kyungsoo curiously. 

“What,” Kyungsoo swallows, the lump in his throat just doesn’t want to budge. “What’s the point in asking?” 

Jongin has Taemin. He has Taemin and he’s not in love with Kyungsoo, not anymore. Kyungsoo’s metaphorical wounds are healing, but they’re still sore. Jongin’s words dig into Kyungsoo’s fragile emotions, threatening to tear them apart. 

“Humour me.” 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo can’t face Jongin as he speaks. He’s always been expressive, and Kyungsoo doesn’t want to see the disappointment and pity he’s sure to find. “I probably love you more, as cliche as it sounds.” 

“That’s,” Jongin inhales, releases it slowly. “That’s not the answer I was expecting.” 

“Then what did you expect?” Their conversation has no point, Kyungsoo thinks, apart from ruining their already unstable friendship. Jongin has always wanted to keep his distance, and his current line of questioning makes no sense. 

“I don’t know,” he sighs, “for you to admit it was a joke? That you were in love with Baekhyun now?” 

“It was never a joke. It’s still not a joke. And I’m not in love with Baekhyun.” 

A pause, silence. Kyungsoo doesn’t know what else to say.

“Fuck,” Jongin is on his feet in an instant, pacing around Kyungsoo’s living room frantically. He eyes the door on occasion, desperately looking for a way out. “ _Fuck_.”

“Are you okay?” Jongin looks broken. Kyungsoo is concerned, wants to hug Jongin, pet his hair and tell him that everything will be okay. Somehow, he thinks that course of action won’t go down too well.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Jongin cries, “you can’t do this to me, not again.” 

“I’m not---”

“I’m with Taemin,” Jongin says seriously, still pacing. 

“I know you are,” Kyungsoo replies, “Jongin, what--” 

“I’m with Taemin but I--” Jongin scrambles for his things, throwing his laptop into his back, pulling his jacket from the arm of the sofa. “I should go.” 

He practically runs from the apartment, leaving Kyungsoo on the couch, confused and alone. 

\------

Jongin has a habit of avoiding his problems, and Kyungsoo has known him long enough to recognise that Jongin currently sees him as one of them. They can’t be in the same room at the same time, Kyungsoo starts leaving as soon as Jongin walks in, just to save him the trouble of running away. It’s hell on his social life, but with text messages and the internet, he’s still able to keep in contact with people. 

One thing Kyungsoo notices is the lack of Taemin in Jongin’s life. They sit separately, returning to their respective friend groups. Maybe Jongin missed his old friends, maybe they’re taking a break. Kyungsoo can’t stop Jongin for long enough to ask, and he’s not one to pry behind other people’s backs. 

“They broke up,” Sehun tells him. They sit at their usual seat in the cafe, the one with the best view of the counter. Sehun doesn’t talk about his love life, much, but Kyungsoo assumes he’s well on his way to Facebook Official with Luhan. “Taemin and Jongin, I mean.” 

“I figured,” Kyungsoo shrugs. He never wanted to hope, but here Sehun is, confirming his suspicions. It doesn’t mean that he has a chance, it just means that Taemin was never the right person for Jongin. 

“What did you do?” Sehun replies. He’s uncharacteristically serious. “Jongin went to your house, came home and broke up with Taemin.” He takes a sip from his frappe. “Over the phone. It was like he couldn’t wait, so he just called him.”

“I...” Kyungsoo trails off, “I told him I still love him.” 

“You’re an asshole,” Sehun’s words are harsh, but his tone lacks its typical bite.

“So I’ve been told,” Kyungsoo replies. He smiles, but only because he feels he has to.

“I’m going to be out all weekend,” Sehun casually informs him, “Jongin’s going to be home alone.” 

“What do you know that I don’t?” 

“Try one more time,” Sehun says, “you’re already heartbroken, what have you got to lose?” 

“My dignity?” Kyungsoo laughs, “my best friend?” 

“Your friendship with Jongin is safe,” he laughs, poking at Kyungsoo’s arm as it rests on the table. “But your dignity is long gone.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” 

\------

Kyungsoo doesn’t allow himself to hesitate, knocking on Jongin’s door as soon as he arrives. If he gives himself time to think, he’ll probably leave. But this needs to be done. Kyungsoo needs his answers. 

“What—” 

Jongin looks tired. He doesn’t look happy to see Kyungsoo, but he lets him in, anyway.

“I never asked,” Kyungsoo says, before he can lose his resolve. 

“Kyungsoo, don’t,” Jongin urges. His voice is soft, strained. “Please.”

“Do you still love me?” Kyungsoo manages to get out. He’s always wanted to know, and now, hopefully, he’ll have his answer. 

“You know I do,” Jongin rubs at his forehead in frustration. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know.” 

“I didn’t know,” Kyungsoo admits, “but I did hope.” 

“Well, now you know.” 

“What should I do with this information?” Kyungsoo expects a repeat of their previous conversation, but he hopes, oh he _hopes_ \---

“Forget about it.” 

“Let’s go on a date,” it’s his last chance and Kyungsoo knows it. “Just one date. For closure.” 

“Okay,” Jongin agrees easier than expected. Kyungsoo is a little shocked. 

He expected Jongin to say no. 

\------

Their date is something full of nostalgia, reminiscent of when they first met, when Kyungsoo was still unsure of his feelings, of his friendship with Jongin. They don’t dress up, Jongin only changing out of his sweatpants because he’s worn them for too many days in a row. The food they eat is cheap, greasy and satisfying. Just general chain food, soggy fries and too-sweet milkshakes. It’s perfect. 

Kyungsoo actually focuses on the movie they see, enjoys the plot and the calming presence of Jongin beside him. They hold hands, because it’s a date and they’re expected to. It feels natural to link his fingers with Jongin’s. Kyungsoo doesn’t want to let go. 

It’s nice, casual, everything he’s ever wanted from a first date. With Baekhyun he splurged on a relatively fancy dinner, jeans foregone and replaced with clothes Kyungsoo hasn’t worn since. Everything feels so much more natural with Jongin, and it may be because Kyungsoo is actually in love with him, or because they’ve been doing things like this since they met. 

The date is over too quickly. They don’t kiss at the door, because Kyungsoo doesn’t feel he’s allowed to. It’s over, and they’re back to being friends. Kyungsoo joins Jongin in his apartment because that’s what friends do, they hang out at each other's houses. 

Friends don’t push friends up against walls and lick into their mouths, but it’s exactly what Jongin does. Kyungsoo wraps his arms around Jongin’s shoulders, kisses back as prompted. Jongin is as desperate as Kyungsoo, his hands never still, running across Kyungsoo’s body like he can’t quite choose where to touch. 

“We shouldn’t,” Kyungsoo says, pulling away just slightly. 

“No,” Jongin replies, “but we’re going to, anyway.” 

Kyungsoo gives in. It’s how dates end, he supposes. They’re just going through the motions. 

Jongin is beautiful, perfect, everything he’s ever wanted. He wishes there was some way for him to record the moment— their final moment before he loses Jongin forever. 

\------

It’s late when Kyungsoo wakes up, room too hot under thick blankets and midday sun. Jongin is still next to him, still sleeping. Kyungsoo supposes it’s his job to sneak out, shatter the illusion and send their relationship back to normality. 

“Don’t,” Jongin’s voice is thick, lethargic. He reaches out, blindly grabbing at Kyungsoo as he tries to slip from the bed. 

“I should go,” Kyungsoo presses. He can see his shirt by the end of Jongin’s bed, hopes his pants aren’t too far away. 

“Or you could stay,” Jongin mumbles into his pillow. Kyungsoo barely hears half of it. 

“Last night was—” 

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Jongin groans as he sits up, blankets and bedsheets falling from his torso to pool at his hips. Kyungsoo can still see some of the marks he left on Jongin’s skin the night before and he wills himself to look away. 

“We have our closure,” Kyungsoo sighs. There’s no reason to drag this out, to keep playing their game of cat and mouse. All he wants to do is leave, to try and forget. If it’s what Jongin wants, then he’ll do it. He’s serious this time. 

“Go on a date with me,” Jongin replies. He looks Kyungsoo straight in the eye. “One more date.” 

“Jongin---” 

“I still don’t have my closure.”

He plays with the blankets, a soft smile on his face. 

“I can do one more date,” Kyungsoo smiles. He’s starting to pick up on Jongin’s intentions, is starting to figure him out. They’ve had their outright confessions, they know they’re in love. But admitting feelings is far easier than acting on them, so Jongin hides behind the concept of _one last time_ until he’s ready to take initiative, to stop crying closure and start admitting that there’s nothing to close.

“Let’s do something right now,” he says, “you, me and whatever TV show you want to watch.” 

“I’d like that,” Kyungsoo replies. He presses a kiss to Jongin’s cheek, soft and affectionate. 

They’re not quite dating, not quite friends, still hanging in that middle stage where labels don’t apply, but all the signs are pointing in the right direction. Jongin’s still scared, of course he is. But Kyungsoo has changed, and has the opportunity to prove it. 

Kyungsoo’s walls crumble around him. He walks through the rubble of old insults, the remains of his crafted image crushed into dust beneath his feet. Jongin takes his hand, drags him out from the wreckage. 

He looks happy. 

Jongin’s happiness is all Kyungsoo wants, and _finally_ , it’s Kyungsoo that causes it.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/suchentacles) for more fic related screaming.


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